


Sinking In

by theskywasblue



Category: Wild Adapter
Genre: M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:23:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's weird, but so good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sinking In

The first few seconds are like trying to draw breath underwater – every muscle in Tokito's body locks up, his heart crashes against his ribs like a crazed animal and in the back of his head there's a chorus of voices in the back of his head going _no no no no. This is wrong, this is weird, this has to stop_ – until he feels Kubota's palm on the small of his back, sliding down his hip, his thigh, slow and soothing.

Tokito shakes, struggling to find something that resembles a voice, but it's gone, tucked in deep beneath his skin as Kubota breathes against him, so long that Tokito almost thinks it's over, done after those first few scorching flicks, before Kubota licks again, hard and slow, against skin that's so tender it makes Tokito sob.

It's so weird, and even though Tokito's fresh from the shower, hair still wet enough to drip water onto the pillow, it feels like it should be _gross_ – like no one should want to put their mouth there _ever_ – but Kubota doesn't care about weird, and he doesn't really care about gross. This is just another way to get under Tokito's skin, to explore the places that no one else can ever see or touch or taste; because if someone tells Kubota that he can't, then without a doubt, he _will_.

But still it’s – well, Tokito tries not to think about it. It’s hot and wet and it _moves_ , and Tokito’s toes curl, his spine feels like it’s vibrating and he’s panting open-mouthed, throat so dry it hurts to swallow, so dry he can’t say _stop_.

But he won’t say stop, and Kubota knows that – even if he gets his breath back somewhere along the way he won’t say it. Sometimes it feels like Kubota knows everything about him, even the things Tokito doesn’t know for himself, and what Kubota doesn’t know, he’s going to find, drag out from deep inside Tokito, and he’s going to take the bad parts, stretch them out in the sun and leave them to shrivel and die.

Tokito feels like he’s falling apart, like he’s breaking to soft-edged little pieces under the slow, slick pressure of Kubota’s tongue, like he’s going to fall through himself, like he’s too exposed, too _open_ , adrift in open water, endless and dark; it’s so scary, but he wants it, knows Kubota will keep his head above water, even if Tokito is too weak to swim.

Tokito drops onto his elbows, rubs his cheek against the pillow; the casing reeks of their skin crushed together, and Tokito pulls in deep, hard lungfuls of it, until there’s no more tension, no more panic, just the slip-slide of Kubota’s tongue inside him, and the ticklish zig-zag of Kubota’s fingers on his hips and thighs.

But no matter how good Kubota makes him feel, no matter how loose and safe and perfect it is – it’s still weird, and no one is ever going to make Tokito say anything less.

-End-


End file.
